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The Claudication
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Satish Verma Is raining. Since night.
You have no claim on
dry lips. Wry stance. The
city walks slowly. Wasted
faces. You want to kill
the words, the profanities.
Want to unwrap the knife.
I don't need any flowers.
Always making faces. Too
Many boats in the sea of eyes.
Rowing, arowing. I am
Afraid. The fast currents. And
then my shirt becomes stained.
Dirty words.
You reach the bottom. The
terrible depth. Digging up
my body. Even my hands
become shovels. Slowly
I erase my name on the sand.
The sea has divided us.
"...Too/Many boats in the sea of eyes."
The world watches as migrants drown - I can not stop thinking of helpless flounding boats and bigger boats ignoring them. Immigrants murdered to prevent contamination of nationalist maritime doctrines and policies. Italy has closed its doors and won't take any refugees profered by Spain. These little scenarios escape the media. The drama is tragic and too real - slc